


"What's the most unattractive name in the English language?"

by superbcandyangel



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mentions of self harmful mindset, Mentions of suicidal tendencies, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:32:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6771004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superbcandyangel/pseuds/superbcandyangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I didn't intend for this to be very long but here it is.</p><p>I discovered that Dan thinks 'Nigel' is an unattractive name. This is the result of this discovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"What's the most unattractive name in the English language?"

He was running. The wind smacked his cheeks as his limbs began to become sore.

_"What, did you think I actually loved you?" Nigel had chuckled, "Wow. You really are a moron."_

The memory of the boy's words hurt more than the harsh gusts. The weather seemed to reflect the stabbing pain in his heart.

_"You fucking freak," the girl beside Nigel had crowed. She was clinging to his arm possessively. "What you made him do with you makes me sick. I might vomit."_

_Tears had begun to sting his eyes by this point. He turned and ran, trying to block out the slurs she was yelling at him._

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling rivers run down his face. His legs were still moving, carrying him further across campus. He knew he wouldn't hold out much longer; he was exhausted, in both body and mind. His foot was yanked backward by some inanimate object he'd tripped over. The momentum carried him forward until he was laying flat on his face. He could vaguely feel scrapes forming on tearstained skin. The world around him was becoming muffled and fading to black.

**Ah, sleep. At last.**

\---

Dan woke up in a familiar place. Even with hazy vision and a splitting headache, he recognized the bleak off-white walls of the nurse's office. The lights were off, to his relief, but it cast a dinghy shadow over everything. He wondered how a nurse could be expected to work in such an environment.

 **Well,** he wondered, **Could it really be called a nurse's office if the nurse had never actually been in it? Their supplies have been unpacked and untouched since they were hired.**

For all his speculation, however, the nurse's complete and utter absence had proved useful to him on many occasions. Dan had developed an intricately crafted act of mild illness to utilize whenever he sensed a panic attack during school hours. He would feign weakness and quietly request to lie down in the office, wearing a pleading expression until safely out of sight. He would then slip through the large oak door, closing it behind him in time to suffer alone, in silence. This was likely the first time Dan had been in this room for legitimate physical health reasons.

He sat up, waiting momentarily for the clouds curtaining his vision to depart. He reached up to rub his throbbing temple, noting his body's sluggish response, and his hand brushed against a bandage on his cheek. Before Dan could begin to search for the dubiously existent nurse, a raven haired friend of his opened the door.

"How are you feeling?" Phil asked softly.

He'd been prepared to say, "Fine," until the memories of how he got to be this way came flooding back. Dan recalled the coldness of Nigel's stare as he broke up with him. A dull ache formed in his stomach as the weight of the experience fell upon him again.

"Fi- Fuck," Dan groaned, burying his partially bandaged face in his hands, "How long have I been here?"

"Not too long," Phil replied, plopping himself down on the cot beside him, "The nurse wasn't in-" Such a surprise, golly, "so I found some Neosporin and bandages and tried to do what I could. You were pretty beat up."

"What has Nigel been saying about all this?" Dan inquired wearily.

Phil's blue eyes turned icy, "Did he do this to you? I swear to god, if he did-"

"NO, no, he didn't do anything," said Dan before his friend could finish his threat, "Well... I suppose that's not quite true."

He felt a lump form in his throat as he recounted the story to Phil. The boy's look softened as he listened patiently to Dan's experience. "N-Nigel cheated on me. With a girl. I don't think I know her name, but she seemed rather hostile. He was mo- He was mocking me for thinking he reciprocated my feelings and then the girl jumped in and started shouting slurs at me. So, naturally, I started crying," he chuckled faintly, "and I began to run as far across campus as I could. I guess I must've tripped over something but... I didn't really care. I dated him for two years, Phil. Two fucking years. And he was cheating on me with that bitch. I was heartbroken, and I didn't particularly give a damn if any other parts of my body broke too."

Dan's chronicle was cut off by a pair of pale arms squeezing his torso. "Sorry for rambling," he mumbled into ebony hair, smelling the vaguely raspberry-like scent of Phil's shampoo, "I got a bit carried away."

His friend pulled away from him for a moment, studying the bruises and band-aids plastered on his face. "And to think I considered Nigel a decent guy," Phil said, grimacing, "I think something of this caliber warrants frozen yogurt. My treat."

Dan smiled, "Sure. What time is it?"

"It's around 5, I think. The place is open till 7PM, so we have plenty of time to bury your pain under mountains of sweets."

Phil's phone vibrated in his pocket. He answered it, "Hi, love. Oh, I didn't realize you were planning... I'm sorry, Dan's in a pretty bad shape, can we do that tomorrow?" He pursed his lips as he listened to the response," Thanks for understanding. Love you."

He slid the phone back into his pocket, "Sorry, that was Charlie. He wanted me to come over to his place, but you seem like you need company."

"Thanks," Dan said, smiling bashfully as he slid off of the antiallergenic mattress.

\---

Over the last month, Dan had heard no less than 34 variations of, "I can't, I have to comfort Dan," from Phil's mouth. The degree in English that his friend was obtaining was being put to work. Phil had been his life preserver those last couple of weeks, knowing exactly what to say to him every few days at 4AM when he was staring at the knives in his kitchen. He was always awake to listen to Dan sob. He patiently listened to him whenever he got worked up about simple things like the foreign feeling of an empty bed.

**I should've known it wouldn't last.**

They sat at a booth in a small cafe near the college campus. He couldn't recall what they'd previously been talking about, nor how long it'd been since the conversation had ceased. Dan had a textbook open in front of him, but he was concentrating far more on the way the pale golden light that streamed through the blinds on the windows hit Phil's delicate hands. His long, ashen fingers were tracing the geriatric carvings in the windowsill. Dan flipped a page in his book to give off the appearance that he wasn't taking note of every wandering of his friend's hand, every flux of his expression as he, too, contemplated the stories this place held.

 **I wonder how many lives have been changed within these walls?** Dan mused, **How many reasons have there been to carve out names and symbols and poetry in the wooden furnishings of this coffee shop?**

His reverie was cut short by an acrid buzzing from Phil's phone. Dan glanced up, heeding Phil's wary expression as he stood up to take the call.

"Hi, Charlie," Phil mumbled. He walked slowly toward the corner near the door, seemingly in an attempt to hide from the necessity to continue the conversation. Dan wouldn't have been able to hear him but for the fact that the cafe was rather small. "Oh... I'm sorry, I know I haven't been spending as much time with you as I used to..." He slid down the pale green wall into a sitting position. His face contorted into a look of incredulous disgust after a moment of silence, "Well, I apologize for trying to keep my friend off of the campus rooftop. I didn't realize you wanted me to abandon my friend when he was feeling worthless," said Phil sharply before burying his face in his hands, looking the epitome of crestfallen, "I'm sorry for raising my voice, I just... Yes, I understand. Okay, you're right." These words and the sigh that came with them sent a lump to Dan's throat to join the sinking feeling of guilt in his gut. "I accept your decision."

With this, he got up and walked back to their table. As he began to collect his belongings, Dan saw how dark his friend's eyes had gone. He took this as his cue to do the same. He slapped his course book shut and slid it into his bag. The brunette followed Phil to the door, heading for his car. They both closed the doors harder than they intended.

"Do you want to stay at my place?" he inquires gently, being careful not to emphasize what had just happened. He glanced at the raven haired boy, who was staring determinedly out the car window as the silhouettes of drive-throughs and telephone poles streaked past, backlit by the same golden light that had just flooded the cafe.

He had nearly concluded that Phil wouldn't answer when he heard a muffled, "Thank you," from the passenger seat.

"Welcome," Dan replied. **Is he crying?**

His suspicions were confirmed when he heard a quiet sniff. Phil rubbed the tears out of his eyes roughly, sighing as Dan pulled into the parking area of his apartment complex. Deadened blue eyes fell upon the three-story building.

"The elevator's broken; you don't mind taking the stairs, do you?"

\---

Somehow, Phil had ended up stretched across the couch with his head in Dan's lap. The brunette wasn't opposed to this development; he and his friend were rather closer than most, and he wanted to make Phil as comfortable as possible in light of the recent events. The two were sat on the sofa. Some episode of some anime was on the TV, but neither of them was paying attention to it. They both were lost in their own heads, putting the distinct and sudden lack of Charlie into perspective and attempting to formulate a way to discuss it without it being overwhelming.

The next episode had started before Phil finally spoke. "How long would be appropriate to wait before making the treacherous venture to collect my stuff?"

Dan considered the question for a moment, "I don't know, Nigel had already packed his stuff before I got home after... That whole debacle," he shrugged, "Wait a few days, I guess? You can live here until you find a new place, if you like."

"Thank you," Phil murmured. His hair had flopped away from his head. Concerned, Dan felt his friend's forehead. The ebony haired boy didn't have a noticeable fever, but sweat was glistening on his skin. The breakup seemed to be taking quite a toll on him. "Would it be too much to ask to borrow some clothes too?"

"Of course not."

"You're too good to me." Phil thanked him, propping himself up with some difficulty. He was now rather close to Dan's face. He could count the freckles on the boy's nose, like a galaxy in photo negative. It seemed like an eternity of staring into crystalline blue eyes, ever changing shades but always the most beautiful and least placable hues imaginable.

Phil's lips were pressing gently against his, soft as rose petals on a warm spring evening. Their mouths melded, dancing synchronically. Dan could've stayed this way forever, but Phil pulled away for a moment to gauge his reaction.

"I fell in love with you a long time ago. I never fully acknowledged these strong feelings until now," he mumbled, licking his lips abashedly, "I hope this doesn't change anything-"

He was cut off by Dan's lips joining to his once again, this time more forcefully. Dan wrapped his arms around Phil's body, pulling him close. The older boy combed his fingers through the younger's chestnut hair.

"I was hoping you'd confess first, I'm shit at initiating declarations of love," he chuckled, letting his mouth wander to Phil's neck. He was answered by a quiet moan.

"I don't want to rush anything, I want this to be something more than just bouncing back from a terrible situation," muttered Dan, retreating momentarily.

Phil looked him in the eyes and replied, "I've been dreaming of this moment for so long. Perhaps I didn't expect it to begin in this way, but going back now wouldn't be a good idea," he said, softly and sardonically, "I've had quite some time to think about this."

"If you're sure," Dan muttered, "Any diseases I should know about?– Ah! Fuck, Phil.."

"If I had any, you would've known far before you had to ask," Phil was murmuring a semicasual conversation into his ear while simultaneously nipping at the most sensitive spots on his collarbone. His voice sent swirling mists of lust through Dan's brain.

Dan smirked, "Good."

He pinned the older boy to the couch, his hand snaking its way up Phil's shirt to play with his nipples. The button-up was soon on the wood floor, and Dan's mouth on Phil's chest. He made quick work of the pale torso before him, leaving potential bruises and nipples standing at attention. He began to undo the clasp on the boy's belt.

"Oh, god.. Shit," Phil groaned as the brunette tossed the jeans onto the floor to join the shirt. The boxers followed quickly after, "Fuck."

Dan had rarely heard the onyx haired boy swear until this point; it was a sound he wanted to hear for years to come. The passion, the desperation, any description one could conceive would not fully encompass the beauty of the scene.

He observed the length between Phil's thighs. It was beginning to redden as blood was being pumped to it. He glanced up at the face of his paramour. Seeing the revelry written across his face strengthened the ache in Dan's abdomen.

He wrapped his lips around the head of Phil's cock. He heard a strangled gasp and a loud moan from the boy's mouth. Dan started to suck on the tip, pressing his tongue firmly against the underside of it.

"FUCK! FUCK, DAN," shrieked Phil, gripping the sofa cushions until his knuckles turned even whiter, "More, f-fuck, harder!"

Dan obeyed, already tasting precome as he licked through the slit and started to stroke one finger along the seam. Phil had one hand in Dan's hair now, tugging, trying to make him deliver more pleasure.

The brunette began to take more of Phil in his mouth, relishing in the wanton moans that now filled the room. He resisted the urge to slip his hand into his pants, knowing that the older boy would rather do that himself.

Phil cried out as an ocean of semen washed down Dan's throat, causing him to gag and retreat. He sat up and pressed his lips, coated in come and saliva, to those of other boy. His raven haired companion responded eagerly, tracing Dan's mouth with his tongue prior to exploring it. He mapped out every crevasse, the entirety of the terrain. He began to play with the waistband of the younger's skinny jeans.

Dan bit his lip, still tasting Phil, as the latter slid his hand into the former's boxers to fondle his cock. He gasped and started to grind his hips into Phil's palm, attempting to stimulate himself with minimal help. When his lover released his hips from the tight, restricting pants, however, he slowly laid back and allowed the waves of pleasure to drench his consciousness.

"Nghh, FUCK, Phil.." He gasped as the boy drew circles on the hypersensitive skin. He could hear the beat of his heart loud in his ears, accelerating with every twitch of Phil's skilled hands.

Dan's climax hit him violently, staining his vision momentarily with shades of bright ochre. He was left panting, sweating, struggling to form comprehensible phrases. His heart rate slowed as he listened to the quiet caress of Kaneki's voice from the TV. The impending shock didn't register until—!

A severe guitar riff stung his ears, jolting him out of his post-orgasmic stupor. Once he'd come to his senses, the hilarity of the incident occurred to him and he chuckled. It rose to an irrepressible fit of laughter when Phil joined in. The two, still giggling, shared a series of chaste kisses before heading to bed. They slept in each other's arms that night, and would continue to do so for years to come.

\---

The chat was being spammed with comments, but one, in particular, stood out to Dan.

"What's the most unattractive name in the English language?"

A weight dropped in his soul. Memories of that time suddenly came flooding back. They came packed with bittersweet emotions; although it had led to this amazing life he led now, he still felt a twinge of betrayal when he thought about that person.

Despite this, he smiled, snickering slightly, "Nigel."


End file.
